The projector screen on the wall flickered to life. Hope appeared on the video call, filling the display.
She'd blurred her hotel background, changed into a wrinkled gray-brown t-shirt, and deliberately mussed her hair into something that looked like exhaustion.
BANG.
Mr. Greyson slammed the damage assessment report onto the table so hard the surface shook.
"Eighty thousand, seven hundred and thirty dollars!"
His eyes were a roadmap of burst capillaries. Each word ground out from between clenched teeth.
"That is what Hailey Chavez cost this company. No-show. Kept the keys to herself."
"Firing her would be letting her off easy. She's paying back every last cent!"
On the big screen, Hope's eyes reddened on cue. She pressed a hand to her mouth and let out a fragile, trembling sob.
"Mr. Greyson... Hailey's had a hard time in the workplace too."
Hope dabbed at fake tears, her voice catching. "Even if she hid the keys and didn't come in, please don't call the police on her!"
"She's still a young woman. If she gets arrested and ends up with a record, what job would ever hire her again? Her whole life would be ruined..."